Life Interrupted
by Mele
Summary: Life was going along just like normal for Rocky...until it wasn't.
1. Chapter 1

_**Disclaimer**__: Don't own them, never have, never will except in my imagination. A bit of non profit fun with the kids. Set during the Ninja period._

**Life Interrupted**

Football season was rolling around again, and the athletically minded Juniors and Seniors at Angel Grove High were gathered at the gym to pick up the permission slips and medical clearance forms needed to allow them to participate. The four male members of the Power Rangers team were standing together reviewing the forms and discussing the upcoming season.

"Oh, man, all we have to do is win just ONE more game this season and we should make the playoffs," Tommy mused as he folded the paperwork and tucked it in his backpack. "We were so close last year!"

"Well, mathematically that's not exactly accurate," Billy pointed out a bit distractedly as he looked for a pen that seemed to be hiding at the bottom of his backpack. "If the wins and losses are distributed more unequally among other teams we may need more wins to qualify." He glanced up from his search to see his three friends looking a bit annoyed.

"Way to buzz kill," Rocky grumped, slapping at the blond's head without any real malice. "We need to think positively."

"Well, technically, the same theory could result in Angel Grove High needing fewer wins to qualify as well," the team genius amended with a slight, wry smile.

"Better," the Red Ranger nodded, grinning in his good natured way, "Because I plan to end my High School football career on a high note!" The exuberant teen threw both arms up in the air his hands clenched into fists as he jumped up and down celebrating the expected success. Only Adam noticed that his best friend flinched a bit and rubbed his left upper arm when he finished.

"You okay," the Asian teen asked quietly.

"Oh sure, it's just a muscle pull or something,. Nothing that's going to bother me," Rocky replied with a reassuring smile. "I'm going to be the starting team's tight end, after all."

Adam, who planned to try out as a wide receiver, grinned back and clapped Rocky on the back as they followed Tommy and Billy out the door, surrounded by the sounds of the other equally optimistic students touting the strengths of Angel Grove High's football team.

Katherine and Aisha, fresh from cheerleader tryouts, were waiting at the gang's favorite table at the Youth Center. The boys took their seats and Ernie came over to take their order. Once the portly owner had left the girls asked how the football meeting had gone.

"Great. All we need to do is have our folks sign the permission slips and our doctors to give us the 'all clear' and we are in," Tommy reported. "How did tryouts go?"

"Well….." Aisha said, her face falling.

"You've got to be kidding, no way you didn't make it," Rocky interjected, looking downright offended that the two girls didn't make the squad.

"We both made the team," Katherine reported, smiling at Rocky for his show of support. "We will be right there to cheer you boys on."

"It's not nice to tease, Aisha," Rocky scolded his friend, working up a severe disapproving frown he could only maintain for a few seconds. "I was ready to find out who I had to beat up to get you girls on the team."

"Yeah, right, you are soooo scary," the spunky Yellow Ranger shot back, taking a sip of the just delivered smoothie.

"Hmph," he groused, discarding his straw and taking a huge gulp of his strawberry-banana concoction.

"I just hope we get enough of a break from Zedd and Rita to let us have our practices and games," Tommy noted. "It'd be kind of hard to morph out in the third quarter, you know."

"Especially for the quarterback," Aisha shot back teasingly.

"If I make the team," the Ranger leader said quietly. "You know, Preston has gotten bigger and stronger since last year, he may be better."

"Yeah, but he's just a junior, and he has next year," Adam commented in his quiet way. "I'm betting he's your backup this year, and the starter next year."

"So when do we have to have these forms in?" Rocky wondered, pulling out his already rumpled paperwork. "Next Friday?"

"That's what they were saying," Billy replied. "I'll call our doctor when I get home to see if I can get in. If not they said the Family Health Center will do the pre season exams this coming week for any students who can't see their regular physician. It's really just a formality."

The conversation segued to other subjects before the group split up to head to their respective homes.

*PRPRPRPRPRPRPRPRPRPRPRPRPR*

Rocky sighed, shifting a bit on the examination table at the Family Health Center. His family's pediatrician was booked too solid to work him in, so he'd called the Center and was able to make a Tuesday afternoon appointment. Dr. Robles was a small, dark haired man who bustled in with a flurry of white coat and words of greeting.

"Good afternoon, Rockwell. How are you feeling today?" he asked, smiling at the young man.

"I'm okay," Rocky replied, feeling a little intimidated. He hated seeing the doctor at any time, but since he didn't know this one he was feeling especially vulnerable. Who wouldn't, sitting there trying to have a conversation while wearing nothing but boxers?

"You want to play football, huh?" the doctor continued, consulting the paperwork Rocky had filled out earlier. His over worked Mama had agreed to let the teen come alone since she had three younger ones with special activities that afternoon. "What position do you plan to play?" the doctor continued.

"Oh, uh, tight end," he said, as always a little embarrassed when reporting his position. Really, it just didn't sound quite as innocent as, say, a linebacker.

"Ah, so you are a fast runner?"

"Pretty good. Especially when someone bigger is chasing me." The teen couldn't quite help infusing some humor into the conversation.

Dr. Robles chuckled in reply as he set the clipboard aside. "Well, lie down and let's take a look at you."

The exam was same as always, though Dr. Robles was much more prone to asking questions and actually appearing to listen to the answers than his regular doctor. It was nice to be treated as he figured adults were treated by the physician. When Dr. Robles ran a firm hand over Rocky's upper left arm he notice the teen's flinch of pain.

"That hurts?" he asked gently, moving his hand back to the tender area.

"Yeah, it has been for a while. Figured I'd pulled or strained something," the teen replied with a shrug.

"How long is 'a while'?" he asked probing a little more firmly and frowning at Rocky's reaction.

"Uh, maybe a month or so?" the Red Ranger replied a little nervously. He didn't like the doctor's expression at all.

"Do you remember injuring it?"

"No, nothing comes to mind. I mean, I do karate a lot, play sports with my friends, that kind of thing. I don't always notice when I get hit," Rocky mused, partly to himself. "Could have been anything." He certainly couldn't mention that he got banged around a lot by Rita and Zedd's various minions and monsters.

"Minions and monsters and bears, oh my," his mind chanted whimsically, causing the teen to smile without thinking, as always amused and surprised at the weird stuff that popped into his head, usually at an inappropriate time such as this. Thankfully the doctor had turned away to consult something on his chart and didn't notice the grin.

"I'm going to have my nurse take an X-ray of this arm, just to be sure nothing is going on in there. We have a small machine right here, so she will be by in a few minutes to take you for that. Then we will talk some more," the doctor decided, writing up an order for the X-ray.

A few minutes a matronly nurse came in, handing Rocky a gown and studiously ignoring the teen's discomfort at his state of undress. She beckoned him to follow her to a small room dominated by a huge machine that stood in the middle.

Kindly and efficiently she set him up for the X-rays then escorted him back to what he was already starting to consider 'his room'. It was almost a half hour before Dr. Robles returned, looking less cheerful than when Rocky had seen him last. The nurse accompanied him, a tray of ominous looking instruments in her hands.

"I'm going to have Gloria pull some blood for testing," the physician told him. Rocky's apprehension increased, he hadn't seen anything about needing blood tests on the paperwork for the medical clearance.

"Doctor, what is going on? What did the X-ray show?" Though at 17 Rocky was considered a bit of a goofball and clown, there was a well of strength in the teen that could be called upon when needed. The doctor considered the young man a moment before replying.

"I see an abnormality in the Humerus bone in your arm," he said at last. "It could be a number of things, the blood tests will help us determine what it is. You may also need to have a biopsy."

"A biopsy?" Rocky asked faintly, feeling suddenly ill. "You think I have cancer?" In his large, extended family there had been more than a few cases of cancer among the elder members. Only two years ago his maternal grandmother had lost her fight against breast cancer.

"I don't know what you have yet," the doctor replied firmly. "We are hoping to rule that out. It could be a simple injury that healed abnormally. Or yes, it could be cancer. It is my job to find out which it is."

"Okay," Rocky muttered, holding out his arm for the nurse. Dr. Robles left again, and Gloria worked as gently as she could on the now skittish young man.

"Dr. Robles, he's one of the best I've worked with," she commented reassuringly. "And I've worked with a lot. He'll make sure you are well taken care of."

"I can't just….I can't believe I may have cancer. I don't feel sick," he said, sighing deeply.

"Sometimes you don't. And this may be a blessing in disguise. You've just had a little pain, right? No loss of weight, feeling ill, anything like that?" When the teen shook his head in the negative she continued, "Then if – and that is a big 'if' mind you – IF you have cancer, we may have caught it very early."

"What cancer could be in my bones?" he wondered.

"It's called osteosarcoma," she said gently, filling the fourth vial with blood. Rocky counted a total of six vials, which only increased his worry.

"What will the blood tests tell us?"

"There are some 'markers' that can indicate the presence of a malignancy. Also we need to see if you are for instance suffering from an infection, if you are deficient in any vitamins, if your blood counts are normal. All sorts of things."

She was just finishing up when the doctor returned with a sheaf of paperwork.

"Rockwell, I want you and at least one of your parents to return on Friday and we will go over the test results. In the meantime, please remember, this could be nothing. Try not to worry," he reassured the teenager. "The girls at the front desk will schedule your appointment."

*PRPRPRPRPRPRPRPRPRPRPRPRPR*

It was the longest three days of Rocky's life from Tuesday afternoon to Friday at 3:45 when, accompanied by both his very worried parent, Rocky found himself again in the small examination room, made so much smaller by the presence of two parents and a sense of foreboding that could not be denied.

Rocky had not told anyone of what happened Tuesday, having decided on his walk home to wait until they knew the full story before telling his friends. Of course, his parents were a different matter, and telling his mama that he might be ill was one of the hardest things the teen had ever done. Consuela De Santos was a strong woman; with seven children she was used to the occasional emergency and skilled at hiding her worries from the youngsters. She took the news from Rocky in a very matter-of-fact manner and sent him off to do his homework. It was only late that night, with all the children asleep, that she let loose with her tears of fear for her oldest child. Her burly contractor husband, Javier, held her and let his own worried tears fall unnoticed on her still perfectly dark hair. But in the morning it was business as usual and there was no discussion of the doctor appointment on Friday. Even on the drive to the office the three DeSantos sat quietly, each lost in their own worried thoughts.

Dr. Robles came in a few minutes later, and considered the three anxious people in the now crowded room before he spoke.

"There is nothing to be gained by not being direct, so here it is: It appears that the mass in Rockwell's arm may be a cancerous tumor. The blood work came back with a number of issues and results I don't like to see in seventeen year old. I took the liberty of scheduling an appointment for a biopsy this evening at the hospital. We will have the results of that by Monday, when I'd like you to come back in. At that time we will know for sure if it is malignant."

Over the next few minutes the doctor and the family went over the blood work results, and where and how the biopsy would be done. With a few more minutes before they would need to leave for the hospital, Consuela finally asked the questions foremost in her mind.

"If it is a cancer, how will we treat it? What are his chances? How sick will he get?" she wondered, keeping her voice steady and her eyes dry by force of will.

"If it is cancer, we will have to remove the tumor via surgery. What type of surgery will depend on the size and how advance the cancer is. It appeared on the X-ray to be quite small, so we'd probably be able to simply remove that segment of bone and replace it with a metal rod. Rockwell has finished growing, so that makes it little less complicated. Then in almost all cases, chemotherapy is recommended to give the patient the best long term survival chances. Chemo can be hard, no one thinks it is fun, but it's six months or so of misery to help ensure in this young man's case up to eighty years of life. Doesn't seem too bad a trade off, does it?"

Javier mustered up a smile. "Seems a fair enough trade, I suppose. But I'd rather it not ever happen," he admitted honestly.

"As I also wish," Dr. Robles assured them as they gathered their stuff to head to the hospital.

*PRPRPRPRPRPRPRPRPRPRPRPRPR*

The biopsy had gone easily enough, under local anesthesia they'd extracted what they needed for testing then bandaged Rocky's arm with instructions to keep it clean and apply fresh dressings daily for five days. Still not wanting to discuss the situation with his friends he wore longer sleeved shirts and avoided discussing the permission slips for football. In fact, he mostly avoided his friends, caught up in his own worry he isolated himself over the weekend, claiming family obligations. Monday afternoon took an age to arrive, but at long last he and his parents were sitting silently once again in the now familiar examination room.

Dr. Robles arrived five minutes later looking anything but happy.

"I'm sorry," he said without preamble, "But the biopsy shows the tumor is indeed malignant."

Consuela's hand tightened convulsively on Javier's, but she met the doctor's gaze unflinchingly. "What do we do next?"

"I'm going to refer you to Dr. Delmar, an orthopedic surgeon, who will do the surgery and then to Dr. Kelso, an oncologist who will do the follow-up treatment. They often work together; their staffs are accustomed to sharing information, so it should work smoothly for you. I'm so sorry, Rockwell. But on the plus side, I'm hoping it was caught early enough that it hasn't metastasized, spread to other organs."

"Rocky," the teen muttered, looking dazed by the conversation. It was all he could think to say.

"Pardon?" the physician replied.

"I go by Rocky," he explained, mustering up a half smile. "Probably should have mentioned before."

Dr. Robles smile was kind and sympathetic. "I'll be following your case, Rocky. And wishing for all the best results."

*PRPRPRPRPRPRPRPRPRPRPRPRPR*

Dr. Delmar was tall, red-haired and jolly. When they met Rocky's first thought was that the man was destined to grow up to be Santa Claus. Add a white beard and wig and a red suit and he'd be ready to go. His hands looked impossibly large and unwieldy to be a surgeon's, but the family had done some research and found his reputation to be impeccable. He met with the DeSantos's two days after Dr. Robles had delivered his devastating diagnosis and informed them he wanted to do the surgery on Friday. Rocky was beginning to feel like he was on a sort of medical roller coaster that he couldn't get off of no matter how dizzyingly fast things moved.

Blood work, further X-rays and other tests were ordered, with the family instructed to have Rocky at Angel Grove Memorial Hospital by 6:30 a.m. on Friday. The orthopedic surgeon reassured the worried parents that Rocky in all likelihood would be fine, at his age and as healthy as he was there was only the slightest possibility of complications. But the paperwork included a section that explained that it was possible that complications COULD occur, and potential outcomes could include the loss of the arm entirely or death.

Leaving the surgeon's appointment Rocky knew it was time to inform his friends of what was going on, and to let Zordon know it was time to find a new Red Power Ranger. He'd been incredibly lucky that no attacks had occurred during the various medical appointments he'd had, but that could not be expected to continue. The only responsible decision would be to relinquish the powers to someone who was not facing the health woes he had.

Decision made, he went to Zordon first.

He teleported in to the Command Center to find Alpha 5 puttering around, actually dusting the various control panels. For some reason that struck Rocky as hilarious.

"Really, that's what you do when we're not under attack?" he asked chuckling when the small robot turned and saw him.

"Rocky. What? Oh…." Alpha put the dust rag down and managed to look a bit shamefaced at being caught doing house cleaning by a member of the team.

Still giggling a bit the soon to be former Red Ranger hastened to reassure Zordon's trusted assistant. "It's okay, it makes sense. It's not like I've ever noticed this place being dusty. Should have figured someone was cleaning it. Didn't mean to sound disrespectful," he added, actually a bit ashamed of teasing Alpha. How in the world did the little guy manage to look so embarrassed without an actual face?

"What can we do for you, Rocky?" Zordon's deep voice somewhat startled Rocky as he'd not noticed the team mentor's arrival.

"Uh, oh, well….um…I need to I guess resign, or something," he stuttered, suddenly unsure of himself.

"Why do you need to resign?" Zordon queried, lowering his tone to as reassuring a level as he could. "Is something wrong?"

"Well, yeah. I'm sick. They are going to operate on me on Friday." A thought suddenly occurred to him, one he realized he should have had a week ago. "Unless you can do something with your technology to fix it?" he asked, his heart in his throat with the sudden surge of hope he felt.

"Rocky, that falls under the personal gain rule. I'm so sorry, but to do that would actually cause all the powers to be withdrawn from the entire team, and Rita and Zedd would prevail in this time and place. These rules are outside my ability to change. May I ask what is wrong with you?" The ancient one's face reflected painful anticipation of what the teen would report. Unfortunately it was not his first time dealing with a young Ranger who'd fallen ill outside the spectrum of the Ranger duties.

"They told me it's called Osteosarcoma, a bone cancer. They are going to remove part of my arm bone here," he indicated an area on his left arm just above the elbow, "then insert a metal rod to replace the lost bone. Then I'll have to go through chemotherapy for at least six months they expect," he reported, looking anything but happy at that prospect.

"Do they believe this course of action will cure the disease?"

"They seem to think so. They don't actually SAY that, but Mama says doctors never really say all they think, just what they believe you need to hear. "

"Do you have a suggestion for a replacement on the team?" Zordon asked.

Rocky had considered that for the last few days and had a ready answer. "Yeah, either Curtis – you know, Zack's cousin - or Richie. Either one would probably do well, and the rest of the team at least knows them."

Zordon nodded his approval. He always had potential replacement rangers in mind. Using teenagers as rangers was the most practical method – adults were too mentally rigid and oftentimes too distracted by their civilian life to serve effectively – but it came with built in disadvantages. Members moving, graduating, getting sick or injured - it all happened at one time or another. He'd learned over the eons to be prepared at all times. In this case he'd already been watching both the teens Rocky mentioned as potential future rangers. His personal preference was Curtis.

"We will contact Curtis to see if he is willing to serve. In the meantime can you continue for a little while longer?" the ancient one asked.

"Oh, sure. I have a bunch of pre-op tests I have to do, but otherwise I'll be around as usual. I'm…I guess….well, I need to tell the rest of the team, they don't know yet," Rocky reported, studying the toes of his sneakers. "I'm not looking forward to that."

"They will understand, Rocky. As I do. I'll keep an eye on you, and if there turns out to be any way we can help, I will make sure you get it," Zordon informed him gently.

"You're going to watch me? Like….all the time?" he asked with wide eyes.

Zordon couldn't help but chuckle a little, he'd always been fond of Rocky's humor. "Only when appropriate, as always," he reassured the teen.

"Thank you." In a streak of ruby light the dark haired teen headed out to find his teammates, his friends, to let them know what was going on.

_To be continued…._

_Author note: Part 1 reposted in hopes the formatting between scenes will come through…._


	2. Chapter 2

Part II

Rocky entered the Youth Center and looked around for his friends. He saw Tommy and Adam teaching a small group of youngsters in the basics of Karate and felt a surge of guilt. He had forgotten all about the beginner's class, he'd agreed to help Tommy out weeks ago. Damn. Across the wide floor he spotted Aisha and Katherine in a mini-skirted group of girls practicing some cheer or another. It didn't really matter, all Rocky saw was tanned, toned legs whipping about in sync. That was a sight guaranteed to cheer up any male under the age of one hundred.

Sitting alone at their favorite table was Billy, clearly engrossed in some complicated calculations he was working out on a legal pad. Rocky took a seat with a word of greeting to the team genius, not rebuffed at all when the blond just gave a wordless grunt in reply. The Red Ranger simply sat back and waited for someone to finish their activity and be ready to engage in conversation. Turned out Billy was finished first.

"Sorry Rocky, I was really having a hard time making that calculation work the way I wanted it to," the Blue Ranger apologized when he finally turned his attention from the cramped formulas filling up the sheet of paper in front of him. "But I think I may have found a way to increase the Mega Zord's power by as much as 38 percent," he added sotto voice.

"No problem. I could tell you'd been working on it a while," Rocky assured him.

"Oh? And how could you tell?"

"Easy enough. You smoothie reverted back to being a juice," Rocky grinned, gesturing to the glass of pale red-orange fluid.

"Ew. Guess I should order another. Want anything?" Billy offered.

"No thanks," Rocky replied, biting back the urge to tell his friend all the things he wanted but couldn't have. Like the option to play football, his health back, his future.

Billy stood considering the Red Ranger for a moment, then turned to get his drink. Though far from the most socially adept of the rangers, Billy was incredibly observant and had seen Rocky's not always subtle distancing from the group in the last week or so. It concerned him not a little.

He returned to find Rocky watching the youthful Karate students under Tommy and Adam's tutelage with a wistful expression. That only served to increase Billy's concern, so much so that he had to ask.

"Rocky, is something wrong?" Billy queried, looking Rocky in the eyes with an intensity he rarely showed outside the Command Center

"No, what could be wrong?" Rocky started, but it was clear the Blue Ranger wasn't buying it even as he was speaking. "Okay, yeah, something's wrong, but let's wait for the others, okay?" he conceded.

"Fair enough," the blond agreed, sitting back but still contemplating his teammate. "We've all been worried, actually." He added.

"Um, thanks, I guess," the Hispanic youth replied, feeling oddly touched by that.

He turned his attention back to the Karate class just in time to see Tommy dismissing his youthful students. He and Adam immediately headed over to join the other two boys, smiling their greetings at Rocky, who was apologizing before the team leader had even had a chance to take his seat.

"Oh, Tommy, I'm so sorry. I forgot all about the class," he admitted with a shamefaced look. "I didn't mean to let you down."

"Don't worry about it, man, Adam was here to help out," Tommy reassured him easily. "We kind of got the idea you had other things going on in your life," he added with his own searching look at Rocky.

"Yeah, well, I'll tell you about that when the girls are done," Rocky told him. "How's this crop of beginners looking?" he asked with a grin. Tommy always had amusing ideas as to the student's abilities or lack thereof, and soon the White Ranger was telling them his take on how well – or not well – the more notable students were doing. He was still talking when Aisha and Katherine joined the group.

Ernie dropped off refills for everyone then bustled off, busy as always with the afterschool crowd. Without a word the five teens turned their attention to Rocky, all of them seeming to sense that he had something important to tell them. He squirmed a bit under the scrutiny, but squared his shoulders and gathered his thoughts.

"I guess you guys have kind of figured out something's up with me, right?" he asked, receiving five identical nods of agreement. "Well, last week I went to the Family Health Center for my football physical, and the doctor there – Dr. Robles – he didn't like how my arm was hurting. Remember how I said I must have strained it or something? Anyway, he had it X-rayed, and he didn't like that either, it showed a lump, so he did a bunch of blood work and he didn't like THOSE results either. So then I had a biopsy Friday evening and on Monday he confirmed that I have bone cancer in my left arm. They will operate on it Friday morning and remove the tumor and replace the removed bone with a titanium rod. Then I'll see the oncologist, but both Dr. Robles and Dr. Delmar – he'll do the surgery, he's a great guy – say I'm almost definitely have to have chemotherapy as well. I just told Zordon, he's going to contact Zack's cousin Curtis to take the Red Powers while I'm sick,' he concluded almost breathlessly, staring at the napkin his nervous hands were busy shredding, afraid to see his friends' reactions.

"Oh, Rocky," Katherine breathed, tears filling her sapphire eyes. "I'm so sorry."

Aisha didn't speak at all but stood up and went over and hugged her longtime friend, her feelings too jumbled, too big, to put into words at that time.

Adam swallowed past the boulder that seemed to be lodged in his throat and managed to get out his question. "Have they…do they know what your chances are?"

"Oh, yeah, sure. Really, I'm going to be fine. The chemo is just a precautionary measure, just in case some rogue cells are wandering around my body looking for a new home. The tumor is really very small, they sound really sure it's an early stage cancer. I'll be fine. It's just kind of …I dunno….sucky that I had this happen, you know?"

"'Sucky' doesn't even begin to cover it," Tommy groused. He hated things like this, his instinct always was to find answers, fight for those who cannot fight for themselves. Cancer was an enemy he couldn't knock out with a perfect roundhouse kick. He preferred an enemy that could at least be seen and confronted.

"Hey, could Zordon help you?" Tommy asked suddenly, hope lighting up his face.

"I asked. It's that personal gain problem. He probably could help, but then we'd all end up powerless and Zedd and Rita would take over Earth, so that's not a very good plan."

"When is your surgery on Friday? And how long will you be in the hospital," Billy wondered.

"I have to be there at 6:30 that morning; I think he wants to operate about eight or so. And Dr. Delmar told my mama that I'd probably be released from there on Monday if everything goes well. I can come back to school the next week. Mama is calling the school to arrange my absence," Rocky reported.

"Then we can come see you that afternoon, right?" Aisha asked, returning to her seat.

"I guess so. I don't really know how it all works; I've never been in the hospital before."

"You'll be a little dopy from the anesthesia," Billy informed him. "You probably won't remember much of what happens that day. By Saturday you'll be back to normal, or should be," he added.

"You've had surgery?" Tommy asked in some surprise.

"I had an appendectomy when I was thirteen," Billy supplied. "I still remember waking up to find my father eating the ice cream they'd sent for me. Seems he'd been so worried he forgot to eat. The nurses gave him all sorts of grief for eating my food. But the rest of what happened that day? A complete blank."

"Really? Huh, that seems strange, not being able to remember part of a day," Rocky commented with a frown. "I don't like the idea of not remembering."

"My dad told me it was actually a good thing since you may have some pain after the surgery. You won't remember it so it won't bother you. That's what he told me anyway." Billy supplied with an encouraging look. "We'll come see you anyway."

The others were quick to agree, which made Rocky feel much better. Though he was still apprehensive about the surgery he felt more optimistic than he had since the doctors had first said the dreaded 'c' word. One thing being a Power Ranger had taught him was the value and power of teamwork.

*PRPRPRPRPRPRPRPR*

Friday was a bright, clear California spring day; the birds were just announcing the rising of the sun when Rocky and his parents drove to Angel Grove Memorial Hospital. A pile of paperwork was quickly completed and the worried family was led to the pre-op area where Rocky was told to strip down and don the requisite hospital gown. As soon as he was settled in a bed the nurses stared setting up two IV lines, one in each arm. The teen didn't flinch when they stuck in the needles, and he kept up a steady stream of quips and questions with the young nurses, who understood completely that the young man was actually trying to cover his fear of the upcoming procedure.

"Rocky, I'm going to start giving you a sedative, you'll start to feel very sleepy, so don't fight it, just go with it. When you wake up you'll be in your room and the surgery will be all over," the nurse told him.

"Okay, thank you…" he paused and concentrated on her name tag. "…Nancy." He finished, already feeling a bit groggy.

"That's it, just let the medicine do its job, "she encouraged him, smiling at how young he seemed as sleep overtook him. With him now sleeping she let a frown of displeasure show; hell, he WAS young, she thought. Too damned young to be having cancer. She finished assisting with the pre-op prep, then sent out a silent prayer that the surgery would be a success and this young patient would have a full recovery.

*PRPRPRPRPRPRPRPRPRPR*

The surgery went without a hitch, the tumor was removed and the titanium rod was screwed in place. Rocky's vitals remained strong and steady throughout, and he came to in Recovery quite quickly. Still groggy and disoriented he was moved to his room, where his relieved parents could watch over him with renewed hope. Dr. Delmar had explained that they had removed the entire tumor they could see, in addition they excised some extra on each side, plus had removed a number of lymph nodes, which they would test for cancer cells. This would tell them if the cancer had spread. He also recommended a PET scan to look for other tumors, though he hastened to assure the DeSantos' that it was mostly a precautionary measure. The Oncologist, Dr. Kelso, would give them more information when he met with them the next week. But for the surgery part, he assured them it could not have gone better.

By mid-afternoon Rocky was more or less conscious, though his concentration and ability to carry on a conversation were hardly up to par. As promised the other Rangers came by, coming to the room in groups of two or three to accommodate the hospital rules, though they were somewhat lenient, especially in cases such as Rocky's where keeping up his spirits was so important. His parents were more than happy to see their son's friends' show of support.

"How you feeling, man?" Tommy asked, looking at the two IVs still in use, one providing fluids and pain meds, the other pumping in some antibiotics to guard against possible infection. Add in the finger monitor for oxygen saturation and the oxygen tubes in his nose and it was a little disconcerting at best.

"Fine as frog's hair," Rocky replied with a slightly loopy giggle. "Oops, no offense Adam," he added, referring to the Asian teen's animal spirit.

Adam favored his best friend with an indulgent smile, so thrilled to see him okay after being so worried he couldn't be bothered to be offended no matter what the other teen might say.

Rocky's parents looked a little baffled by the exchange, but chalked it up to a combination of Rocky's usual bizarre humor and the lingering effects of the anesthesia. Tommy left after a few minutes, to be replaced by Billy. Then Billy and Adam gave way to Aisha and Katherine. By the time they left Rocky had dozed off again, courtesy of the pain meds and residual anesthesia.

*PRPRPRPRPRPRPRPRPRPR*

Monday saw Rocky discharged from the hospital with a sheaf of papers outlining what he could and could not do for the next few weeks as he recovered from the surgery. That afternoon the Power Ranger team stopped by en masse to provide homework assignments, notes, encouragement and sundry news from school and Zordon. Curtis came along, having accepted the Red Ranger duties. At first he said little and hung back a bit, feeling out of place and awkward in the presence of the former Ranger. But Rocky quickly put him at ease, remembering his own not so distant period of being a new Ranger.

Between them Adam and Billy shared all of Rocky's classes, so they had notes and information on each ready for the recovering youth. Rocky made a show of displeasure at having to do homework while recovering, but it was all for dramatic effect. In reality he was more than happy to have the normalcy of schoolwork to fill the days, the last thing he wanted to do was sit around and worry about the upcoming chemotherapy and where else the cancer may have spread to. Much better to research the War of 1812 or work out the value of A minus C times B squared.

He had a PET scan scheduled for Wednesday, then his first official appointment with Dr. Kelso on Friday. They'd met the intense oncologist on Sunday afternoon, just a quick meet and greet basically, after which he'd ordered the scan to be scheduled along with the office visit. He'd spent scarcely ten minutes with the family, but he'd left them practically spinning from the burst of information he'd provided.

"It was like meeting Alpha 5 paired with Coach Schmidt," Rocky told his friends, referring to the football coach at Angel Grove High. "Just massively intense and weirdly maniacal."

"Sounds fun," Aisha joked, working to keep the visit cheerful. "You could sell tickets to that."

"Rather not," Rocky shot back with an exaggerated frown. "It's bad enough, I don't need an audience. What's Zedd and Rita been up to?" he asked, wanting the subject changed to something else.

"Sent down the Carp A Diem monster yesterday. Billy was not happy fighting that," Tommy reported, giving his longest time teammate a teasing grin. Though Billy's fish phobia was mostly a thing of the past, they hardly rated as his favorite creatures.

"Really? 'Carp a Diem'? Zordon really needs to work on those names," Rocky groaned. "How'd it go?"

"The wolf and bear zords both needed repairs after, but nothing major," Billy supplied, as always more focused on the technical aspects of their duties.

"We defeated it fairly quickly, with little property damage and no injuries," Katherine added, smiling fondly at Billy's perspective. "Curtis did very well, " she added with an encouraging look at the newest Ranger

"How's it feel to be a Ranger?" Rocky asked the other youth with a warm smile.

"It's awesome, man. I still cannot believe I'm a Power Ranger. It's unreal. Like a fantasy come true," Curtis gushed, then stopped, abashed as he realized the cost of his becoming a Ranger.

"Hey, it's okay to be excited. I was. I understand," Rocky assured the embarrassed youth as the others watched with varying degrees of discomfort. "It has nothing to do with me being sick. It IS exciting to be a Ranger, embrace it. Enjoy it. I did. Just know that once I'm well again I'm coming back for my powers," he added as menacingly as he could.

"You got it, man. I know it's on loan only," Curtis reassured him very sincerely. "I can't say I'll likely be happy to give up the powers, but I'll be _thrilled _to see you back."

"Well, now that's settled, on to the most important question. Did anyone bring me a Jolt Cola?"

_To be continued….._


	3. Chapter 3

Part III

The week at home went by very quickly thanks to the daily visits from the team and the two medical appointments. First he underwent a PET scan at the hospital. It was painless but Rocky found it difficult to lie so still for so long. The technician finally released him with an understanding smile. When Rocky and his mama asked how it looked he could only tell them that he'd forward the information to Dr. Kelso to review. That non-answer annoyed them both, but the tech couldn't be persuaded to say anything.

That afternoon Rocky vented his frustration to Adam, who stayed after the rest of the team left, sensing his best friend had more on his mind than he was letting on.

"It's so frustrating," the erstwhile Red Ranger groused after the others had left. "It's like a weird sort of torture: 'come in and have this test, but now you have to wait to find out how sick you are, but you know – try to relax'. How the heck can I relax thinking 'they aren't telling because it's bad news' while TRYING to think 'it's all fine, you're okay, they are just being mean' and Mama is being all 'you're fine Rocky, just do your homework' and you guys are all 'you're looking great Rocky' and inside I can't figure out how I'm supposed to feel, you know? I mean, I can't hardly even believe I'm sick, I don't feel sick. My arm hurts some, but otherwise I feel just….normal. It's a mess," he sighed, winding down and looking for a moment lost and confused and much younger than his 17 years.

"You'll find out Friday, right?" Adam asked, simply because he had no idea how to respond to his friend's torment. No inkling of what he could say or do to make it any better. He absolutely hated that helpless feeling.

"I suppose. Or I'll find out there's some other test they need to do. I think they make them up as they go along."

Adam smiled a little. "Guess it would be easier if we could figure out a way for you to study for those kinds of tests, huh?"

"Now, that's an idea," Rocky exclaimed, glomming on to the idea immediately. He looked down at his body with a frown. "Okay, liver? Get those enzymes in order. I'll be quizzing you on the proper levels you need to maintain. Kidneys? Get cracking on the filtration, I expect to have a 90% or better efficiency rating by tomorrow evening," he ordered, causing Adam to chuckle. Rocky deepened his voice to a commanding timbre. "And all cancer cells….abandon ship! Repeat, this is the captain speaking: abandon ship!" Rocky looked up with an exaggerated expression of hope. "Think they're listening?"

"Oh, yeah. Sure they are," Adam agreed. "Listening and giggling."

"Well, that's not very helpful," Rocky grumbled. The good mood faded too quickly. "I just hate this whole thing, you know?"

"I hate it too. But I promise I'll be here for you, any time you need me, I'll do whatever I can," the Black Ranger promised.

"You know, that actually helps," Rocky told him, serious in a way he seldom was. "I didn't have any idea how much it helps to have friends around until this. I can tell you this: once I get better I won't hesitate to visit a friend, or even a friendly acquaintance, if I find out they're sick or in the hospital."

"I'm glad to know it helps. I just wish I could do more," Adam admitted.

Rocky's quicksilver mood took another turn, and he smiled innocently. "Well, we could play some cards. Poker perhaps? Penny ante?" he suggested, knowing he could beat the socks off his best friend. Rocky's prowess at card games, especially poker, was well known.

"Fine, but no cheating. I know you cheat," Adam grumbled for show, but he willingly grabbed the deck of cards off Rocky's desk and set up the bedside table to accommodate their game.

*PRPRPRPRPRPRPRPRPR*

Dr. Kelso did not have Dr. Robles gentle people skills or Dr. Delmar's warm personality, and he was the personification of 'average'. Average height, average weight, light brown hair, unremarkable blue eyes, and balanced facial features. Average that was, until you encountered the intensity of his personality. Warmth may have been lacking, but not passion. He was dedicated to the eradication of cancer in all forms, and viewed each patient as a battle in his never ending war with the disease. He greeted Rocky and his parents in a distracted manner before opening the already thick medical file and taking a few minutes to read the reports. The family sat quietly, somewhat intimidated by his impervious manner. Finally he looked up with a frown.

"Well, the news is mixed, at best," he declared, setting the file aside.

Consuela tightened her hold on Javier's hand, but stayed silent, waiting for the doctor to explain.

"The good news is: the PET scan was clear, no tumors were detected. This would indicate the cancer had not metastasized – spread to other organs," he announced with a tight smile. The family exchanged relieved smiles, and then the doctor spoke again.

"The bad news is: Dr. Delmar excised 14 lymph nodes during surgery, and the pathologists found cancer cells in four of them."

"What exactly does that mean?" Javier asked, putting a reassuring hand on Rocky's shoulder.

"Well, think of the lymph node system as a subway system that runs throughout a person's body. Some cancer cells are on the train, but maybe they have not yet reached their destination. Or they've reached their destination, but have not settled in completely, perhaps. Could be they are even still in the station, so to speak. We cannot tell. But the bottom line is: the cancer is in some stage – however early – of moving on to a new location." He explained, pleased as always that his simple explanation allowed patients to understand more completely.

"How do we 'derail' them?" Rocky asked.

"You have three options available to you. Let me bring up the scenarios on my computer." The doctor fumbled with his computer, muttering when it balked at his prompts. Finally he beckoned Rocky closer so he could see.

"Based on your personal information: age, health status, number of lymph nodes involved, etc, here is what your chance of reaching the five year point without the cancer recurring is, if we do nothing beyond the surgery." A pie chart appeared, showing the percentage: "Sixty-four percent. Not the best betting odds, right?" Numbly Rocky nodded.

"One of the chemo options is pill form. It' tends to be a little easier: patients don't have as many side effects, takes less time to do, more convenient. Here's your percentage with that." The new results showed an increase to seventy-two percent.

"Not bad, definitely better than sixty-four. But here is the percentage if you opt for infusion chemotherapy." A new chart and a new number: eighty-seven percent.

"I can't force you to any decision, it is yours to make. I will tell you this: If you cannot make a decision and leave it to me, I will order infusions. I won't lie to you; infusion chemotherapy is not fun. You will have side effects, possibly a lot of them. Most likely you will lose your hair. You will be nauseated. You won't want to eat. You'll be tired all the time. Those are the most prevalent. Others can include mouth sores, skin conditions, lactose intolerance, hives, vision problems, those sorts of things. The side effects are usually most severe the first two to four days after treatment, tapering off after that until the next session. If the side effects become too severe we can alter the dosage, change the medications perhaps, or prescribe medications to treat the side effects, but you need to understand the medicines for the side effects can have their own side effects. On the plus side, you are young, and the therapy I would prescribe is the six months: actually three rounds of six weeks each, with two weeks off in-between. Half a year and your chance of the cancer recurring drops to only thirteen percent. In Nevada they'd say those were betting odds."

"Uh, how often would I be…um….infused? And where would I be going? Can I still attend school while I'm doing chemo?" Rocky asked, feeling oddly much better now that he knew the options.

"You'd come in once a week, and I believe the treatments take four to six hours. The center is just up the street on the hill. You would not attend school on that day, but otherwise, unless the side effects are extremely severe you should be able to go to school. We will write orders to excuse you from PE during the chemo due to the dangers of injury. Your body simply cannot afford any further stresses during treatment. The afternoon before each treatment you need to come in to have your PICC line taken care of and blood drawn," Dr. Kelso explained.

"What's a pick line?" Rocky and Consuela asked in unison.

"Oh, yes, with the infusion you would need to have a Peripherally Inserted Central Catheter – PICC – line. It's a tiny tube inserted on the inside of your upper arm, the tube runs up the larger vein in your arm and across your chest to the large vein behind your heart. The IV with the chemo would be attached to the connection outside your arm. That saves the veins in your arms and is much less painful overall than being poked with needles twice a week times eighteen weeks, yes?"

"Sounds better, I guess," Rocky agreed, thinking it sounded pretty much awful, but so did having needles jabbed into him twice a week. "They can draw blood from that too?"

"Yes, indeed. So you've decided?"

He looked to his parents, and Javier answered his unspoken question.

"Son, it's your life and your future. Your Mama and I love you very much, and are proud of how brave you have been through all this. We want the best – always – for you. And we trust you can make the right choice." Beside him Consuela nodded her agreement.

Rocky sighed, wishing he could just turn the whole thing over to someone else, but in his heart he knew what he had to do. As Billy sometimes told him when tutoring him in math: numbers don't lie.

"I choose the infusion." He announced, squaring his shoulders as if taking on a burden.

"Excellent. Give me a few minutes to write up the orders and the girls at the front will schedule your appointments for the PICC line and your first treatments."

*PRPRPRPRPRPR*

"How you feeling, man?" Tommy asked, as always, when he arrived at Rocky's home on the Saturday following his appointment with Dr. Kelso.

Rocky had not seen his friends the evening before; his parents, wanting to cheer the teen up, had taken him and the other children out for a rare restaurant dinner. The younger Desantos siblings had been told that Rocky was sick, and would be sick for a few months because of the medicine he had to take, but the word 'cancer' had not been used.

"Good," the former Red Ranger replied, working up a reassuring smile for the Ranger team leader. He'd sat alone in the back yard for a couple of hours after dinner the night before and had prayed like he'd never done before. It had helped calm his fears remarkably, and he had vowed to approach the cancer treatments with optimism and good humor. He refused to consider that the cancer could be terminal; that was not in his plans at all.

"The others will be along in a while, the Science Fair is this weekend, and well, you know that's kind of like Christmas Day for Billy," Tommy informed him with a conspiratorial grin. "Adam is helping him out, the girls are at cheerleader practice and Curtis is stuck doing yard work at home, apparently."

"Sounds about right," Rocky agreed with a smile. "Since it's just us I can ask: how is Curtis doing, really?" That had been worrying Rocky a bit since he'd given up his powers.

"He's doing okay," Tommy reassured him. "There was a little problem with communication early on; he didn't know all the protocols like you do, that sort of thing. But he catches on quickly, and what he lacks in experience he makes up for with enthusiasm."

"Good, I'd hoped we had chosen well," the former Ranger responded. "But that doesn't change the fact I can't wait until I'm ready to come back."

"Us too. Much as we like Curtis, he's not you," the White Ranger assured his friend.

" Thanks," Rocky replied, then hastened to change the subject. "Hey, wanna play some cards?" he asked with his best innocent look.

"Ah, Adam warned us about you and your poker games. How the heck did you manage to fleece him for six bucks at a penny ante game?"

"Find the deck and deal them out and I'll show you," Rocky offered with a grin as Tommy chuckled and set up the card table.

An hour and four dollars later Tommy had his answer.

*PRPRPRPRPRPRPRPRPRPR*

The nurse who set up Rocky's PICC line was a tiny Aisan woman who bustled about energetically, setting up the ultrasound to find the vein and injecting Rocky with a local anesthetic. The shots were surprisingly painful on the sensitive area of his inner right arm and Rocky frowned at her cheerful assurance that it was just a small sting.

"That was a BIG sting," he grumped, only half jokingly.

"Okay, then it is not a mosquito bite, but a wasp sting?" she queried, tilting her head a bit as she considered her young patient.

"That sounds about right," Rocky agreed grudgingly.

"I used to tell people that it was like at the dentist, until one day my patient was a dentist and he got angry at me because all the people who use dentists as examples of bad things. So I don't say that anymore," she informed him with a sheepish look that got a chuckle out of the good natured teenager.

"The wasp sting thing is about right," he conceded, watching fascinated as the monitor showed the muscle and fat and veins of his upper arm. "That's kind of gross looking," he noted.

"Well, that's what we are looking for, right there," she announced, pointing out the vein on the monitor. "You won't want to watch this," she informed him, picking up an instrument he couldn't quite see.

He took her at her word and turned his head away, frowning at the sensation of pressure in his arm. A few moments later she announced she was finished, and he looked to see she was placing numerous dressings on his inner arm. There was a thin, purple tube protruding from his arm with a weird cap on it. She wrapped that in a gauze bandage then put a stretchy white tubular bandage over the entire area.

"That must be changed tomorrow. When is your next treatment?" she asked.

"I start treatments tomorrow morning," he replied. That would be Friday, the day he chose to have his treatments. Though he wasn't particularly thrilled that he'd likely feel like heck every weekend, it was the best decision if he wanted to attend as much school as possible. The pre-treatment blood tests he would have done on Thursdays, right after school. Then in to get the infusions on Friday morning.

"Excellent, they can change the dressing there. You have a blood draw each week before treatment?" she asked. At his nod she continued. "Then they will change the dressing each week when they do the blood draw. No need for you to make a separate appointment. But, if you ever have any questions, or think there is a problem, I'm going to give you my direct number and you can call me."

She gave him that information along with the booklet outlining what he could and could not do while the PICC line was in place, how to care for it, what to look for to prevent problems and infections. Rocky looked through it with mounting apprehension.

"I have to do all this?" he asked faintly.

"Oh, heavens no, that's what the nurses at the cancer center will do. I have to provide this information to you so you are informed. All you really have to do is watch for signs of infections as they describe in the booklet, and don't go swimming or use a hot tub. Keep it as dry and clean as possible, and avoid excessive heavy lifting with that arm. You'll do fine," she assured him.

He sighed in relief. "Thanks," he said as he studiously avoided looking at the bloody dressings on the table. He put the information in his backpack and headed out for home, trying his best to not be nervous about the chemotherapy treatment starting in the morning.

To be continued…


	4. Chapter 4

Part IV

"Hi Rocky, my name is Rhonda and I'll be your nurse today," the pretty blonde woman greeted the nervous teen Friday morning. Consuela stood behind her son, anxiously watching over him as they entered the Cancer Center for his first chemo treatment. "And who is this with you?"

"This is my mama, Consuela DeSantos," Rocky introduced, working up a reassuring smile for his mama. The last time Consuela had been to a cancer treatment center had been with her own mama, who eventually lost the battle. She was working hard to NOT think about that.

"Consuela, welcome," Rhonda said with a smile. "Go ahead and choose a seat and I'll be right with you to get us started. You need your PICC line serviced?" she asked.

"Yeah, that's what they told me yesterday at least," Rocky supplied.

"Okay, we'll do that first thing." With that the petite woman hustled off, leaving Rocky and Consuela to choose a seat.

They looked around, seeing probably two dozen beautifully plush recliners with small tables beside each loaded with magazines and a basket of packages of chips and cookies. Televisions were mounted beside each recliner, and if not for the IV poles and hazardous materials disposal bins it didn't appear to be a medical facility. The chairs were set up with two in each open 'cubicle', some with window views, some inside. Rocky chose an outside view seat with the IV pole to his right, and Consuela sat on the straight backed chair in front of the recliner.

"Heh, this is really comfortable," Rocky commented, kicking off his sneakers as he'd been taught to do at home if his feet were going to be on the furniture. "And there's snacks!" he exclaimed, picking up the basket and inspecting the contents.

"Rocky, remember your manners," Consuela scolded him, causing the teenager to blush and put the basket back on the table.

"Yes, Mama," he replied.

"Okay, let's see your arm," Rhonda said, pulling up a stool and setting a basket of supplies down on a second table. She deftly unwrapped the PICC line and removed all the dressings, discarding them in the small trash can. She attached a syringe to the PICC line device and withdrew some blood for testing, then flushed the line out and re-dressed the whole thing. It took less than 10 minutes to do, then she patted Rocky's knee as she rose from the stool.

"I'll get you started on the saline first, and then when the pharmacist brings us your meds we'll switch to those," she said, giving the teenager a reassuring smile. "In the meantime, get comfortable, turn on the TV if you want, read some magazines, have some snacks. Would you like some coffee? Tea? Water?"

"Um, water would be great. Mama?" the young man asked, turning to his mother questioningly. "Do you want anything?"

Consuela shyly requested black coffee, then smiled at her son as the nurse bustled off. "She seems very nice. Did that hurt any?"

"No, not at all. Very cool," Rocky reported, looking at his arm approvingly. "Maybe this won't be so bad," he yawned, covering his mouth with an embarrassed look. He'd barely slept the night before, he'd been so worried. Now feeling the comforting vibe of the facility, he was relaxing and the lack of sleep was catching up to him.

Rhonda had arrived back to catch the yawn. "If you feel tired, go ahead and nap, a lot of our patients do. Your meds will be ready in about an hour; in the meantime we'll bring your hydration up." She quickly hooked the IV up to the PICC line and Rocky couldn't help but smile.

"I can see why the doc wanted me to have that. Doesn't hurt at all," he grinned at Rhonda and his mama.

"Oh, we love PICC lines and ports," Rhonda agreed, patting Rocky's hand as she headed back to her office. "I'll be right back with your drinks."

Rocky giggled a little, thinking how sometimes she sounded more like a waitress than a nurse, then his attention turned to new arrivals as more patients trickled in to fill up the various chairs. Old, young, spry, barely functional, all sorts of patients, in all sorts of stages of the disease. The other chair in their little cubicle was taken by a woman who came alone, carrying a canvas bag filled with supplies: a small pillow, blanket, book, glasses, and some fruit were withdrawn, as she made herself at home with an ease that indicated she'd been here many times before. She appeared to be well into her seventies, and if she weighed ninety pounds Rocky would be surprised. Yet she smiled at the teen and his mother in a friendly manner, and her nurse, Dawn, greeted her with easy familiarity.

The promised beverages were delivered, then Rhonda went off to take care of other patients, leaving Rocky and Consuela to converse quietly. They were discussing thirteen year old Miguel's obsession with a girl at school when Rhonda returned and set up the first bag of medicine.

"Did anyone go over the side effects with you?" she asked as she made adjustments to the IV device that would regulate the flow of the drugs into the PICC line.

"Um, a friend of mine looked them up online and printed it out for me," Rocky said, remembering how Billy had somewhat anxiously dropped off that information for Rocky after he'd learned what meds were prescribed.

"Okay. Dr. Kelso did prescribe an anti-nausea drug, but it doesn't work there are others you can get from a pharmacy," she told them. "Don't suffer needlessly, Rocky. If you feel too sick, call Dr. Kelso, or us, and we will do what we can to make it better. If the nausea is mild you might try crystallized ginger, or black licorice. Even simple hard mints can sometimes help settle your stomach. And if you start running a fever or have any signs of an infection, you must call right away. Also if you get constipated, for over 24 hours. Or, conversely, diarrhea for over 24 hours. We need you to be able to eat, you're likely to lose a lot of weight during treatment, it will be a constant battle to keep your weight up. So with that in mind, do not be shy about helping yourself to some treats from our baskets. They are there for a reason."

"Thank you," the teen replied, smiling at the young nurse. "Are you sure I'll lose my hair?" he asked, feeling a little stupid, but being bald just didn't appeal to him at all.

"Pretty much everyone on this regime loses their hair," she reported sadly. "I know of a place that provides wigs for a very reasonable price, I'll get their information for you. I know you're probably thinking 'boys don't wear wigs', but if it can help make you feel better, you do it. No one needs to know. And folks might not notice, especially if you start wearing them before your hair falls out."

"I know it's stupid," Rocky said a little ashamed of his vanity. "It's just, I don't really want everyone to know how sick I am. My friends have been really cool, but well…you know…some others could be pretty mean." His thoughts turned to Bulk and Skull, and their mean spirited tormenting of fellow students who were smaller, shyer or in any way not what they considered 'cool'. Though he'd had few problems with them, he remembered Tommy telling him and Adam how rough Billy had it for years with those two.

"Rocky, I doubt anyone – even a teenage boy – would make fun of someone with cancer," Rhonda argued gently.

"It's not really that, it's…" he paused, trying to put his feelings into words. "I don't want to be treated different. I'm still just me, you know? Cancer isn't who I am; it's just what I have now. And if everyone knew I'm sick, they will start being weird around me and I don't want that. I just want to be regular old Rocky. Does that make sense?"

Rhonda smiled at the teen with understanding glowing in her eyes. "It makes perfect sense," she agreed gently. "A lot of patients feel that way, actually. Be it their family, their co-workers, or fellow students, no one likes to be treated like they are damaged in some way, fragile, or worse, dying."

"Yeah, see, I don't plan on that whole dying thing," Rocky informed her quite seriously. "I'm doing this chemo, then I'm outta here and you are not seeing me ever again. Well, maybe for a visit or something, but when I'm done, I'm DONE."

"That's the spirit I like to see!" the nurse enthused, standing up. "You keep that attitude and that's exactly the results you will get."

*PRPRPRPRPRPRPRPR*

"Hey, how're you feeling, man?" Tommy asked after Mama DeSantos let the three male members of the Power Rangers in for a visit on Saturday morning.

"Pretty much like crap," the erstwhile Red Ranger replied with a frown. "And all I want to do is sleep, for God's sake! Why am I so sleepy? It's not like I've done anything since Thursday. Just sat in an incredibly comfortable chair – seriously, I'm wondering how I can steal it from them – and read and watched TV and snacked and dozed. How does that make me tired? I tried to do some of my science homework after we got home and really, it might as well have been written in French, I had NO idea what the heck it was talking about."

"That's weird," Adam mused. "Did the doctor tell you that would happen?"

"He said I'd be tired, but I don't understand why." Rocky replied.

"Actually, it makes sense if you think about it," Billy supplied quietly.

"Oh? How?"

"Well, what controls your body's functions?" the blond asked.

"Duh, your brain," Rocky replied, rolling his eyes. "I've not lost all my smarts."

"Actually, you've not 'lost' any at all," Billy replied unperturbed by Rocky's attitude. "What's happened is that your brain, which is designed to easily direct the normal functioning of your body while also being able to provide full resources for outside intellectual pursuits, is now having to deal with an incredible increase in its 'behind the scenes' workload. It's not only doing its usual functions, but now it's having to deal with all these chemicals being dumped into your system, so it is having to 'divert' some of its resources to deal with the new, extraordinary workload, and while that is happening it is essentially too busy to deal with things like science questions," the team genius explained in his patient way.

"Huh, never thought of it that way," Rocky conceded. "So, I'm getting a 'busy signal' from my brain while it deals with the chemo?"

"That's one way of looking at it. Plus, you've got a lot of extraordinary chemical reactions going on in your body, and that would be why you tend to be more tired now," he added.

"That make sense. Rhonda – that was my nurse, she's super nice – said that if I was tired I needed to go ahead and sleep. Not try to force it to keep awake."

"Good advice, really," Billy agreed.

"I suppose, but I'm not used to sleeping all day," the dark haired teen complained, then yawned, much to his consternation. "See?"

"It's your body's way of telling you what it needs, that's all," Billy noted, stifling a smile so as to not embarrass his friend.

"Stupid body," Rocky grumped, but his three friends could see he felt better knowing what was going on. The teen then looked up and the others could almost see him shake off the thought of his illness and treatment. "So, what's going on with our favorite intergalactic bad guys these days?"

Tommy happily took over the conversation, with the other two active Rangers contributing their own observations. All three were pleased to see their friend's attention diverted from his health woes, if only for a little while.

To be continued…


	5. Chapter 5

Part V

The first few weeks of chemo were a time of learning and adjusting for Rocky. The nausea was most prevalent at lunch in the school cafeteria and in the evenings if he was near the kitchen. He quickly realized it was the smells that were sending him off, not so much the food itself. He learned to avoid hanging around the kitchen – and the family agreed to 'trade out' any of his kitchen chores for others – and ate lunch outside, usually joined by his friends who avoided cooked foods that tended to have a stronger smell. Some foods he'd loved before were suddenly not as appealing, or even downright nauseating. His mama's famed tamales for some reason were rendered noxious to the teen, but her bean casserole, which he'd always eaten but was not passionate about, became a major craving. Milk chocolate, which had been his favorite before, gave way to cravings for dark chocolate. That was when he wanted food at all. Unfortunately he often had no desire to eat at all. Not nauseated, not sick feeling, just not hungry. Eating was a chore most days, rather than the pleasure it used to be.

Consuela spent much time trying to tempt that capricious appetite. If Rocky happened to mention that something sounded good, it would appear on the dinner table. Even if he ate only a half serving she was satisfied.

It was shortly after his fourth treatment, about day 23 of his chemo regime, that his hair started to come out in unsightly patches. That Sunday morning he awoke to a miserable amount of hair on his pillow, and a check of the mirror showed bald patches dotted around his head. Because he wore his hair quite short it was extremely visible. Depressed and embarrassed, he asked his mama to go ahead and just shave his head.

"At least it won't look like I had some sort of weird accident," he sighed as he pulled out the 'hair cut stool' as all the DeSantos children called it. With such a large family Consuela had become an adept hair stylist years ago.

"It will come back, Rocky. Remember that. And even without hair you are a handsome young man," she assured him, setting the trimmer to the lowest setting. Once the length was taken to the minimum, she gently shaved it completely. Her eyes were dry and her manner matter-of-fact as she finished her task. Since the start of his illness, Rocky had found his mama's no nonsense treatment of him to be a comfort. She didn't treat him like he was fragile or broken or sick. For the most part she treated him as normal, which he appreciated more than he could explain.

"I just…school is not going to be fun tomorrow," he commented, running a hesitant hand over his hairless head. "No one really knows what's going on besides my best friends. Now everyone will know."

"It's not something to be ashamed of, Rockwell," she mildly scolded him. "And who knows, you might not be the only one who is quietly battling an illness."

"Maybe," he agreed, putting the stool away. "Still..Bulk and Skull will love this."

That afternoon when Adam came by he was surprised by Rocky's new hairless style, and unfortunately his initial shock was noticed by his best friend.

"I' know, I look like a freak," Rocky groused, trying not to be too hurt by Adam's reaction.

"It's not that," Adam protested. "It's just, I was hoping it wasn't going to happen, it's been four weeks after all. I expected it would be sooner, and when it didn't happen…." His voice trailed off.

"Yeah, me too, actually. Though Rhonda told me it would be around day 20 or so. Guess I'll just wear a bandana tomorrow and hope no one notices,"

"That could work. Just go for the 'cool' look," the Black Ranger agreed, sorry to see how much the loss of his hair was disheartening to his friend. He'd admired Rocky's determination and courage from the get-go, even when it was just the two of them visiting the former Red Ranger was mostly upbeat and determined. Rarely did Adam see Rocky disheartened. Frustrated, confused, annoyed - sure. But not disheartened. Not like he seemed today under the futile attempt to sound cool about things.

Their visit was cut short by Rocky's protest that he was feeling tired, and Adam left more worried about his best friend than he'd been since Rocky first told them about the cancer. He spent the walk to the Youth Center deep in thought, and was pleased when he saw the other Ranger sitting at their usual table.

"Hey Adam," Tommy greeted him. "Why the serious look? Is Rocky okay?" he asked with deep concern.

"Not really. The hair loss happened. Guess he woke up to find about half his hair on his pillow. He had his mama shave the rest off. He's really worried about school tomorrow," he reported.

"I can't blame him," Katherine agreed quietly. "I mean, I feel self-conscious if I just get a new haircut. To have all my hair shaved off? I think I'd go into hiding," she admitted, albeit a bit shamefaced to admit her vanity.

"Well, I was thinking…I think I'm going to go to the barber and get my head shaved," Adam announced abruptly. "At least that way he won't be the only one."

"That's a great idea, I'm in," Tommy said, looking determined. "Three is better than two."

"Make that four," Billy interjected. "We'll make it easier for him to blend in."

Katherine and Aisha exchanged looks, both showing a clear terror of the idea of shaving their heads.

"Guys, I don't think I could do that," Katherine said softly. "Not only would my mum kill me, but…my hair? I just…just….can't."

"Hey, it's okay," Tommy said, laying a comforting hand on the blonde's shoulder. "It's easier for guys, our hair styles tend to be short anyway."

"Yours isn't," she pointed out.

"Yeah, but I"d been considering cutting it for a while now. Time for a new start."

"Oh, if it's long enough you could donate it to 'Locks of Love', they provide wigs for cancer patients," Aisha reported, looking enthused. "I think it has to be 10 inches."

"Cool. We should go do that this afternoon, so tomorrow morning Rocky will walk in to find he's not the only one. I know that barber shop on Third Street is open on Sundays," Tommy suggested as they all finished their smoothies.

"Let's go," Adam agreed quickly. "Before I lose my nerve."

*PRPRPRPRPRPRPR*

Hal, a sixty-five year old ex-marine, ran the 3rd Street Barber Shop, the only Angel Grove barber shop that boasted seven day a week service – major holidays excluded, as he often explained.

"If you want a haircut on Christmas Day, well, woe to you," he'd say in his dry manner. "Come in on Christmas Eve, though, and I'll happily take care of you."

A lifelong bachelor, the actual reason for the seven days was to allow him to have some social life, so to speak. Never busy on Sundays, he and his employee would spend the day playing checkers or various card games, watching NASCAR racing and/or football and/or baseball on the shop's two TVs, and spinning yarns about their romantic escapades. Busy and popular during the work week, the weekend shifts were mostly spent relaxing, so it was a shock to Hal and his longtime employee/friend Bud to have three teenage boys come in.

"What can we do you for?" Hal asked, looking up from his admittedly weak gin rummy hand, glad to have the distraction at the moment.

"We'd like to get our hair cut off," Adam said bluntly, speaking before he had fully formed the thought. Now that they were actually there some trepidation was setting in.

"You mean a trim on your current styles?"

"No, we want it cut off entirely," Tommy clarified firmly.

"Military buzz cut?" Hal asked, eyeing the tall teen's long locks.

"Shaved completely off," Tommy stated.

"I see," Hal returned, looking dubious despite his words. "You sure about this?" he asked.

"Very," the Ranger leader replied. "Oh, do you do that charity thing for wigs for cancer patients? Aisha told me the name…" he trailed off.

"Locks of Love. Though it's not only cancer patients, it's kids who lose their hair for any medical reason. Yeah, we do that," the owner assured him, pointing to a poster on the wall promoting the foundation. "And it looks like you'd be a great candidate."

"Let's do it, then," Tommy declared, taking a seat in one of the two barber chairs. Adam took the second chair while Billy found a seat among the mismatched chairs in the waiting area.

Protective drapes were put over the teen's shoulders, then Hal gathered the length of Tommy's hair in a tie before measuring and cutting the length off. At the first snip Tommy stiffened, but relaxed almost immediately. He'd never felt more sure about a course of action as he felt at that moment. He avoided looking in the mirrors as the barbers worked, and noted Adam had much the same reaction. He glanced over at Billy only to find the Blue Ranger engrossed in an article in a four year old copy of Time.

"Can I ask why the decision to cut all your hair off?" Hal asked at length, curiosity overcoming him.

"A friend of ours is fighting cancer," Tommy said quietly,

"Lost his hair to the chemo, did he?" Hal asked gently.

"Yeah. And he's worried about school tomorrow. We figured this would help."

"It will, I'm sure of it," Hal declared, preparing to shave Tommy's head now that the length of hair was gone. "It's a nice thing you're doing."

"He's gone through so much already, and lost so much. No football, he feels bad most of the time, he's scared even if he doesn't say so. If we can help in any way, we want to," Tommy informed him solemnly.

"My father, God rest his soul, told me that cancer was the loneliest fight he'd ever had," Hal told him quietly. "I would have done anything to help him, but back in those days – it was the 70's you know – there wasn't much help or hope. I lost him in 1977 after a three month battle. It was fierce but short."

"I'm sorry," Tommy replied with considerable sympathy.

"Your friend, his chances good?"

"According to what he says the doctors say, yeah, his chance of beating this is excellent. And he's been very brave, I can't even tell you how much I admire his attitude."

"Ah, attitude, that's everything," Hal agreed. "I get clients in here, they tell me they have the cancer, I can tell you in minutes if they are going to beat it or not," he claimed.

"Oh?" Tommy prompted, curious.

"It's all attitude. Some, they come in, they're all 'my life is over', 'I can't beat the cancer Gods' sort of attitude. Some, they come in, get their heads shaved even before they start the chemo, saying 'the drugs can't beat me, I'll beat them to the punch.' Those folks, they are the ones who will win. Others, they die the moment the doctor says 'cancer.' It's hard, but true. Isn't that right Bud?" he asked his employee.

"Oh, yeah, it's true as anything. Folks heads, that's what beats them or gets them through."

"You're all done young fella. Let's get your buddy up here before he bolts," Hal joshed removing the drape from Tommy and lowering the chair. Tommy glanced in the mirror and couldn't help the double take. He looked so WEIRD!

"You'll get used to it," Hal chuckled, carefully wrapping up the length of hair he'd cut off first. "And this is a beautiful gift to a child who needs all the hope and help they can get," he added.

"How much," Tommy asked, reaching for his wallet.

"For you boys, it's on the house," Hal said gently. "It's a wonderful gift of friendship you are giving your friend. I can't taint it by charging you for the haircut," he announced, ushering Billy into the seat Tommy had just vacated.

Tommy smiled his thanks and put a five dollar bill in the handy tip jar. Adam, freshly released from Bud's ministrations added his own to Tommy's. Both of them tried to avoid staring at each other, and consequently concentrated on watching Billy be shorn.

Their contemplation was interrupted by the bell above the door and five pairs of eyes turned to find two teenage girls entering boldly.

Aisha didn't pause but hopped up on Bud's chair and declared, "Take it all off."

"Friends of yours?" Had asked dryly, pausing in his cutting to watch the new arrivals.

"Oh, yeah," Tommy grinned, turning his attention to the Yellow Ranger.

"Aisha, you sure of this?" he asked.

"We both are," Katherine answered firmly.

Tommy's eyebrows rose as he contemplated the Pink Ranger. "I thought you couldn't do this," he noted mildly.

The Australian beauty blushed but answered forthrightly. "Some things are more important than vanity," she stated simply. "We talked it out, and decided if you boys could do it, we could too. It's not like it won't grow back."

"And your parents?"

"They will get over it."

"Hey, is mine long enough for Locks of Love?" Aisha asked Bud, who had already draped the teenager and was contemplating the impressive mass of hair.

"Oh, yeah. Just figuring out the best way to proceed," he assured her. "That's very kind of you."

"How about mine?" Katherine asked.

Hal regarded the blonde critically. "It'll be close. I tell you what; we'll give it a try. If they can't use it, so be it. But at least we will have tried."

"Thank you," Katherine replied softly, sitting between Adam and Tommy watching their two teammates being shorn. All too soon Hal was finished with Billy and gestured Katherine to take the seat.

He kindly distracted her with questions about her homeland, and stories of when he visited Australia as a marine back in the seventies. She found herself chuckling at his stories of his less than sober attempts to photograph a kangaroo, and before she knew it she was the sixth and final bald Power Ranger.

The Pink Ranger looked in the mirror and was mortified when her eyes welled up with tears at the sight. Tommy put a reassuring arm around her shoulder, and turned her gently so she was facing him.

"You have never been more beautiful," he assured her very seriously, placing a chaste kiss on her forehead.

"I feel…naked," she confessed, wiping at her eyes impatiently.

"Yeah, me too. Feels very strange."

"Yeah, and wait until it starts growing back and itches," Billy contributed, earning glares all around.

"What?"

_To be Continued…_


	6. Chapter 6

Part VI

Monday morning Rocky walked into the main hall of Angel Grove High with his head down and his eyes fixed firmly on the ground in front of him. He wore neither cap nor bandana; his bald head was out for the world to see. He'd tried on a bandana and found it was even weirder looking than his bald head, and the school had recently put a ban on caps and hats due to some students' questionable taste. Staring at his reflection in the mirror that morning Rocky decided to simply suck it up and get it over with. He'd go in sans any headgear, and if someone wanted to make fun of his bald pate then so be it. But despite his resolve, once he was on campus it took all his courage to not duck into the nearest closet and hide until school let out.

Studiously he ignored the murmurs as he walked past, until he got to his locker, when a noticeable increase in the jumbled vocalizations took place. Glancing up he almost physically recoiled in shock when he saw his five Power Ranger teammates approaching, each as bald as he was. It took a stunned moment for him to understand what they had done, and with realization came a wave of warmth and love for his friends that was more than enough to counteract his fear and embarrassment.

"Good morning," Tommy said casually as he worked the combination on his locker.

"Ah…good morning," Rocky managed at last, still looking around at his friends with amazed affection. "What have you guys done?" he finally croaked out.

"Making a fashion statement," Aisha commented, "Think it will catch on?"

"Uh, maybe," the former Ranger said, looking less than sincere. Still, for the first time since setting foot on the campus, he was standing tall and meeting others' gazes directly.

"What did your parents say?" he asked suddenly, mostly to distract himself so he'd not give in to the tears that threatened. 'Geez, crying would be even more mortifying than being bald,' he thought.

"Oh, my mum was so not happy with me," Katherine said with a wry look. "But she got over it pretty quickly when she understood why I did it. Besides, I'd wanted to try a shorter hair style, now I'll have the chance."

"Yeah, my mom was pretty mad, too," Aisha said. Rocky, who knew her parents well, could only imagine that. Aisha's mother was a force to be reckoned with.

None of the others would mention it to Rocky, but without exception, once the initial shock was over, their parents were unabashedly proud of their children for their efforts to support their friend. They all knew about Rocky's illness, and each and every parent couldn't help but be glad that their child's baldness was a choice, not a side effect. That their children cared enough, had sufficient empathy to want to alleviate their friend's pain…well, that was a source of pride any parent could understand.

Glancing down the hallway Tommy spied Bulk and Skull, and with a slight gesture to Billy he headed their way, the Blue Ranger at his side. The two Power Rangers ignored the other student's double takes and suppressed snickers, so intent were they on intercepting the two school bullies. The teens had faith that most of the student body, once the novelty of seeing the bald students wore off, would revert to treating them all normally. The two exceptions to that expectation were Bulk and Skull.

"What the hell?" Bulk said, stopping so suddenly that Skull bumped into him, almost falling down as a result. "Halloween coming early this year? You two going as Har Krishnas? Heh, Billy, you really ARE an egghead now." That comment elicited an explosion of Skull's particularly annoying laughter.

"Yeah, egghead!" he crowed.

Gesturing for the two bullies to follow them to the side of the busy hallway, Tommy spoke intensely. "Look, you want to tease me or Billy, I guess that's fine, but I am asking that you don't give Rocky any grief about being bald. Us, we chose to do this, Rocky didn't get that choice," the White Ranger told them.

Bulk's expression had morphed from his usual snarky smirk to an uncharacteristically somber look. "He's sick?" he asked quietly. At Tommy's nod he asked. "Cancer?"

"Yeah."

"What kind? Docs say what his chances are?"

Tommy and Billy were surprised by Bulk's reaction, noting that even Skull had lost his usual gleeful spitefulness and was listening to the conversation with atypical seriousness.

"He has bone cancer, and according to his doctors his prognosis is excellent for a full recovery. He's got about three more months of chemo to go, though," Billy reported.

"Good, that's good," Bulk replied. "You don't need to worry, we won't harass him," he said quietly, gesturing for his companion to follow him as he headed to his locker. As the duo passed the other Rangers they simply nodded a wordless greeting and went on their way.

*PRPRPRPRPRPRPRPRPRP*

That afternoon the sextet of friends gathered at their second favorite table at the Youth Center, laughing and joshing in their usual way, all of them relieved at how well the day had gone overall. Rocky had been worried about having his illness be common knowledge, but all he'd heard all day was well wishes and encouraging words.

"You know, you guys all look really weird," Rocky commented casually as he took a sip of his smoothie.

"Oh, look who's talking, the guy who looks weird even if he has hair," Aisha shot back, her twinkling eyes taking any sting out of her words.

"Oh, ow," Rocky joked, falling back into his chair as if shot.

"Uh….guys?" Adam interjected, looking toward the entrance with a shocked expression. "Do you see what I see?"

Walking across the Youth Center were Bulk and Skull, both sporting freshly shaved heads. They went directly to the Rangers' table, looking uncomfortable but determined.

"Look…uh….Rocky…I know we aren't exactly buddies or anything,, but cancer, well, that's rough. My mom's oldest sister, my Aunt Karen, she got colon cancer about four years ago. It was really advanced, stage four when they found it, and she did two rounds of chemo and radiation fighting it. She was my favorite aunt, you know. Really fun whenever she visited. Always made me feel special, and made sure we had some sort of fun every time. But…well….I guess they found it too late, She died six months after they found the cancer. While she was being treated I found this coffee mug for her, and she took it to every treatment after that. When she died my mom got it back for me. I'd like to lend it to you…LEND it…to use on your chemo days. My aunt swore the only thing that tasted good during treatment was hot tea. And she always used this mug," he explained, holding out the precious memento of a loved and lost relative.

Rocky took the mug from Bulk, read the words and burst out laughing. The plain white mug was inscribed with the slogan: Cancer Sucks. "This is so perfect and true!" he chuckled, turning his gaze back to the large teen. "Thank you, Your aunt was right, hot tea does go down easy during treatments. I will use it and take good care of it, and when chemo is over it will come back to you," his smile softened to an expression of gratitude and affection, two feelings he'd never expected to feel in relation to the often cruel teen. "This is so nice of you. And so is the haircut. Doesn't look too bad," he added. "On either of you," he amended quickly to include Skull.

"I feel quite light headed," Skull commented, tossing his head back as if he had flowing locks of hair. "I may leave it this way."

The others all stifled laughter at the unintentional humor of that statement, and Tommy gestured to a couple of empty chairs. "You guys want to join us?" he offered.

"Nah, don't want to ruin our reputation, you know," Bulk replied with a smile. "But thanks. We have a new lead on the Power Rangers to follow-up on anyway." With that the two beat a hasty retreat.

"Wow. Who would have expected that?" Adam commented, turning to Rocky with a grin. "Bulk and Skull acting…human."

"This is really a cool mug. I like it," Rocky added, inspecting the item. "I can't believe how honored I feel that he's letting me use it."

"'Cancer sucks'. Pretty much says it all, huh?" Tommy commented with a smile.

"Yeah, that it does," Rocky agreed.

To be continued.

_**Author's Note:**_ _I came up with the idea of the Rangers and Bulk and Skull shaving their heads in support of Rocky prior to Kellie Pickler's very public shaving of her head in support of her cancer stricken friend. It's not an original idea of course, I'd read real life stories of students shaving their heads in support of sick friends, husbands for wives, wives for husbands, and the guy who takes all those funny pictures of himself in a tutu to amuse his ill wife. The human spirit can be an amazing thing. Kudos to Ms. Picker and all those others who have sacrificed vanity in the name of love and friendship. Never is anyone more beautiful than when they love someone fully._


End file.
